Snow
by Daaro Moltor
Summary: A trip to Greece with a portkey shouldn't be that bad, right? It's just to pack shorts and leave... But what if you don't turn up where you supposed to? What if you turn up in the freezing cold, and your only opption is to warm up with your archenemy?


"Fucking…!" Harry Potter was so incredibly mad that he didn't even manage to finish the sentence, so mind-blowing angry that he was shaking. Actually, he had never been this mad in his whole life. He was so damn furious that he didn't even feel the cold, which was a miracle in itself due to the fact that it was about fifteen degrees _below _zero.

He swore again when he fell in the icy snow for the thousandth time.

"What kind of moron would do something like this!?" he burst out loudly, but he didn't really manage to keep the fury in his voice, because of his chattering teeth and hoarse voice.

_Somehow _his portkey – which was supposed to take him to southern Greece – had been exchanged. So instead of turning up in a warm place filled with people to meet an auror from the Mediterranean country – which by the way was what he had dressed for this morning -, he had turned up _here._

'Here' he suspected was the Alps or something similar, not the Himalayas though – the mountains weren't high enough. But it sure as hell was _cold _enough! He had already _waded _in the waist-deep snow for over four hours, and was no longer completely positive that he still possessed ten toes. He couldn't feel anything below his belly button, so he wouldn't notice if he didn't.

If he came back to England alive the idiot who had caused all of this wouldn't be able to speak the word 'portkey' ever again. Or any other word, for that matter!

Once again he cursed the God-forsaken place and cast another warming spell, even if he knew it only lasted for about a second.

The only positive thing he could come up with was that the view was stunning. The snow-covered peaks around him glittered in the sun, and the cloudless sky was incredibly high. Once – on a particularly high mountain – he thought that he'd seen the sea, but he wasn't sure. _If _he was right, though, it would mean that he was not in the Alps at all, but that wouldn't surprise him – far too many mountains existed in the world to guess right by just looking around when you stood on top of one.

But he thought he still was in Europe. The fact that the trip with the portkey had been so fast had been the first sign of that something was terribly wrong.

He had long ago stopped breathing on his hands to keep them warm – the moisture in his breath just made them cooler – and stumbled along with them firmly placed in his armpits. His balance suffered by that, but at least he hadn't lost any of his fingers.

_Yet._

He couldn't even Apparate anywhere due to the fact that he didn't know where he was – an Apparation to England could possibly kill him, and he didn't want to try getting anywhere else either.

The muscles around his eyes felt strange from squinting all the time, but he didn't dare stop. It was a wonder that he hadn't turned snow-blind already!

He quickly changed his mind about the blindness when he looked up.

It just wasn't possible that it was real; his eyes had to be playing a trick on him.

A _house! _In the middle of nowhere! He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

Impossible! It was still there!

Maybe he rubbed too hard…?

He clenched his jaw and started swimming again (the snow was really too deep to _walk_ in…). Even with the worst possible scenario, it was either die out here or die in there (if the house actually existed, that was).

When he got closer he quickly decided that the house was indeed real. Even if it looked a bit… _strange _among the beautiful peaks. Strange, small, and out of place.

The roof was black, even if he couldn't tell what material it was from this distance. The cottage itself was red, with a cute-looking white door.

_Cute-looking door!? _He shook his head quietly. The sun had probably melted his brain instead of destroying his vision…

Anyhow… the small house had huge windows that let its inhabitants admire the magnificent view, even from the master bedroom, it looked like.

He suspected that curious neighbors wouldn't be a problem in a place like this. He flushed when the thought developed itself.

It was strange how perverted one could become by hanging out with Ron Weasley. He was twenty four now, so thinking about sex wasn't really strange, it just seemed like his brain took every chance it got to transform even the simplest thing to… well, porn.

Sweet Merlin! Why was he even thinking about such a thing _now, _of all times!?

Maybe because he hadn't got laid in a while. He was the savior of the wizard world, not a _monk_, for God's sake! But getting a decent girl seemed equally hard in both situations. Even if it was because of different reasons.

_Useless subject… _his brain concluded suddenly, interrupting his chain of thoughts, _unless you want to get warm in _that_ way, of course, but I don't think this is the place for a wank..._

He didn't think so either, but disagreeing with one's own brain maybe was a bit unusual.

The last bit of hesitation about whether he should try to enter the house or not disappeared when he took a closer look at the furniture inside. Thick blankets where lying all over the place, placed mostly on soft-looking armchairs and couches. Maybe it was just his imagination running wild, but he thought that he could actually _see_ the warmth in there. The air just looked… _thicker._

He finally reached the building. The "garden" had been cleaned a bit from the snow – now it just reached his knees. But he couldn't tell if it was with magic or by a Muggle hand.

He took a deep breath, hid his wand, and knocked hard on the door. He backed off a few steps to not get hit by the door when it opened.

_If _it opened, he corrected himself a few moments later, when the door still hadn't shown the slightest sign of letting him in anytime soon.

He knocked again. And again.

Someone _was _home! He was sure of it! He had seen the burning fireplace from outside.

He knocked on the door again, _hard. _His icy knuckles protested furiously. Now when the snow didn't cover his (thankfully) jeans-covered legs, they began to feel cold again, returning from the nothingness of before.

A freezing wind suddenly blew so hard that it felt like it would sweep him of his feet. He lost his breath and had to touch his face when he managed to pull himself together, just to make sure that everything still was in place.

From nowhere a bunch of pitch-black clouds had appeared in the east.

A blizzard. _Perfect._

"Let me in!" he shouted desperately and hammered his fists against the door once again. The hoarseness twisted his voice. Oh, what a cold he could look forward to. If he survived at all, that was.

The door opened abruptly.

"What!?" an irritated voice bellowed.

Suddenly there was a more lethal threat than the cold. _Surprise._

_Draco Malfoy _stood in front of him, clad in nothing but a pair of dark blue jeans.

"Potter, what the fuck are _you _doing out here!?" Malfoy finally managed in a somewhat high-pitched voice.

A warm breeze suddenly reached him from inside the house.

Without even thinking, or let alone answer the Slytherins question, he pushed Malfoy aside and rushed in to the house, aiming for the armchair closest to the fire immediately.

His legs felt strangely light after fighting through the snow for so long. With a stiff-legged jump he landed in the incredibly soft and comfy chair.

"Sweet mother of Merlin! If this isn't heaven I don't ever want to die!" he moaned blissfully, forgetting about Malfoy for a glorious moment.

"Hate to break it for you, Potter, but this isn't heaven – it's my home, and I'd very much like it if you please would tell me what _the hell_ is going on!"

He managed a strangled moan instead of an answer. Suddenly Malfoy stood in front of him with a displeased frown.

Malfoy said something more, but he didn't quite catch it; it was something similar to 'what an idiot you are', or words equally flattering.

He felt strangely numb now when he was in the warmth again, even if he himself was still cold. He closed his eyes and let his head tip backwards.

Somewhere deep down he knew he shouldn't be so relaxed around Malfoy, especially when it was just the two of them, but another part of him, a _bigger _part of him, couldn't bring itself to mind.

He yawned.

That seemed to make the Slytherin lose it.

"Okay, Potter, I want an answer_ now. _What the fuck are you doing in _my _house!?"

"Quit the screaming, will you? I'm not even pointing my wand at you…" he opened his eyes and actually managed a glare in Malfoy's direction. "My portkey was mixed up, and I ended up a few miles away from here. I just found your house by accident. If I knew you lived here I probably hadn't walked in at all." he answered after a moment of hesitation.

Draco Malfoy was a former Death Eater after all.

"But why-…!? Wait… A few _miles_…?"

Malfoy's eyebrows shot up under his blonde hair.

"Yes, I've walked around out there for a couple of hours…" he said, and quickly regretted the slip – Malfoy really didn't need to know how weak he felt right now.

"Thank Merlin it's summer then", Malfoy concluded ironically. In the meter-deep snow he had forgot it actually was June.

For the first time since he had arrived here, Malfoy took a good look at him. He didn't quite enjoy the piercing eyes roaming over his cold body.

He tried to pull a hand through his hair, but the ice there fought him. And won. He untangled his hand awkwardly.

"Potter, you're soaked", Malfoy finally said.

"No shit, Sherlock", he muttered sourly with a shudder – he didn't need to be reminded of how cold he actually was.

Both jeans, t-shirt, socks and even boxers had gone from wet to stiffly frozen. The last one was particularly uncomfortable.

His hair was, like mentioned above, transformed into icy spikes. The moisture in his mouth, nose and even eyes felt strange. Somewhere he had heard that the tear-ducts could actually explode if the tears froze…

He shook off the thought and looked up at the blonde again.

"Stand up, Potter", Malfoy ordered.

When he hesitated the man rolled his eyes.

"If I'd like to kill you, idiot, I'd just toss you out again. So now stand _up." _The tone clearly said that Malfoy would _not _repeat himself again.

Carefully he stood up.

"Now take of your clothes." Malfoy said it as if he'd only asked him to… fetch a cup of tea or something.

After he'd debated with himself for a couple of seconds he admitted to himself that he saw the point in doing as Malfoy asked him, and reached for his shirt. Only to find that his finger wouldn't bend enough to grip anything thinner than an upper arm.

The Slytherin saw his problem and shoved his hands away to take over the task, and before he could react, Malfoy had pulled the shirt over his head.

Even though it had melted a little since he'd entered the house, it still made a strange sound of protest, almost like it would break.

He felt like an obeying puppy when Malfoy firmly pushed him back in the armchair, dropped to his knees and pulled his shoes of, along with the socks.

He was only able to let out a strangled cry of protest before Malfoy had dragged both his jeans and boxers off too. The small cry transformed into a loud scream as he felt the pain.

_Ouch!_

Frozen boxers were nothing he could recommend to _anyone._

A smug look appeared in the Slytherin's face when the man eyed his groin.

A blush made its way to his cheeks as he quickly covered his cock from Malfoy's prying eyes. To his surprise, Malfoy didn't look up immediately, even though his hands now where in the way. It made him – to say the least – a bit uncomfortable.

Finally Malfoy stood up again and met his eyes.

"Stay here, near the fire. I'm going to fetch a blanket." Malfoy gave as an explanation, before leaving into some unknown room of the house.

Completely naked, all he could do was stare into the fire and continue to cover himself up.

The situation was – for the lack of a more extreme word – odd.

Here he was, sitting in Draco Malfoy's armchair, after walking for hours in the middle of nowhere, and _Draco Malfoy was taking care of him._

The confusion made his head hurt.

The Slytherin returned with the bed-sheets and tossed them at him. Grateful for the warmth he quickly – or as quickly as his cold fingers managed at the moment – wrapped them around himself. Malfoy still looked smug when he sat down, careful not to sit too close to the fire, in front of him. On the _floor, _much to his surprise.

"Where am I?" he asked, no longer trying to conceal his cock, "Which country?"

"Norway," the Slytherin simply answered with a shrug.

"Norway!? What the heck are _you_ doing in _Norway!?"_

"Hunting dragons of course, they live just over the hill in my backyard. Underground, naturally," Malfoy explained patiently and pointed in said direction with his thumb, like it was the most obvious question on earth, but he was too stupid to know the answer.

"And exactly _where _in Norway are we?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh, somewhere north of the Arctic Circle, about two thousand meters above the sea." Again, the question was answered like he was a retarded three year old.

He groaned.

"How the hell did I end up in a mess like this?" he asked of no one.

Though Malfoy was the one to answer.

"You're always in some kind of mess, Potter, and this is hardly the worst one," Malfoy said. "In fact, I can't even see how this _is _a mess," the Slytherin continued questingly.

"_Not _a mess!? I'm lost in the middle of nowhere, I have never been this cold in my whole life, I'm not going to be able to go to work for a month because of the cold this is going to cause me, and I'm stuck here with you due to the fucking _blizzard _out there! And on top of it, I don't think I'll ever be able to feel my feet again!" he cried. Even he himself thought he'd sounded a bit scary with his hoarse voice, but Malfoy seemed unaffected.

"_Norway, _Potter, not _nowhere, _and we're hardly in the middle_. _Plus, you're not stuck here yet, it's just a bit windy out there. Just wait 'til the real blizzard starts and you'll see."

The wind blew so hard outside the cottage that he – even with the huge windows – couldn't see where the mountains ended and the sky started. Actually he was positive of that if he'd stood out there right then, and held out his arm in front of himself, he'd not been able to see his own hand.

_A bit windy…_

Malfoy suddenly stood up and walked over to a small cabinet. When he couldn't see what the Slytherin was doing, he cuddled up deeper in the sheets and turned his eyes to the fire.

Plotting an escape plan was at the moment useless, so he let his mind wander in the opposite direction.

Malfoy was gorgeous.

He sank deeper down in the armchair, almost as if it would conceal his thoughts.

He wasn't gay (or at least he thought so…), but he'd always considered the other male highly attractive. A few more years on the pale body hadn't hurt. At all. The blonde hair was longer and softer-looking than he remembered, and – much to his surprise – no longer kept back in the Slytherin's usual strict fashion. But maybe that was because the man's hair was still a bit wet – after a shower, most likely – and he hadn't styled it yet.

And from what he could make out from Malfoy's naked chest… the man was now quite muscular.

"Here", a voice suddenly said. His head snapped right, and he saw Malfoy standing there. Something with the Slytherin made him wonder if he maybe had stood there for a while.

He held out his bluish arm and accepted the amber fluid.

"Whisky?" he asked, confused.

"Yes. Firewhiskey. When you get cold your body reacts by shutting the blood flow to your toes and fingers to keep the important parts warm. By the look of your arm I'd say that your body has gone further than just your fingers… anyhow, the alcohol will widen your veins again. Now that you don't need to worry about freezing to death anymore, I don't think it will be a problem that your overall body temperature will sink with a couple of degrees…"

He had emptied the glass before Malfoy was done with his informative monologue – which kind of made him sound like Hermione. He actually felt a bit warmer afterwards.

The Slytherin sat down on the floor in front of him again.

"Good, now give me your foot",

Frightened he stared at Malfoy.

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Because we need to get your circulation going again, or else you _will _lose some of your toes." Malfoy threatened.

He hesitantly let his right foot peek out from underneath the sheets. Malfoy grabbed it quickly before he had any chance to regret his move.

Instinctively he tried to pull his leg back from the firm grip, but the protest died on their way to his lips when Malfoy suddenly pressed his thumbs against his arch.

A sigh was what escaped his lips.

_Merlin_, that felt nice…

He probably would have noticed the smug smile on Malfoy's lips if he hadn't tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

Slowly the feeling began to return to his feet, and suddenly he realized exactly what Malfoy was doing - the Slytherin was giving him a _foot-massage._

Before the thought could develop in his mind, Malfoy touched his foot in that _oh-so-delicious _way.

When he actually _moaned _the blonde decided that he was done, and reached for his left foot. He happily held it out for the Slytherin to take. This time he could actually feel the cleaning charm Malfoy cast at his foot. Soon it was given the same treatment as his right had been given a few moments before.

Even though his mind and body had melted a bit since he walked in here, it was still a bit hard to think clearly. But he _did _manage to notice how sexy Malfoy's torso was. The pale skin was completely exposed to Harry's prying eyes. The chest looked soft. And muscular. Bud he guessed that you had to be that when you hunted dragons.

For his inner vision he saw his own hands sliding over the milky skin.

His cheek blushed furiously, and – even worse – he felt his cock twitch.

Of course Malfoy couldn't see it due to the thick blankets, but it was still embarrassing enough.

He swallowed hard and tried to think of something else. Thankfully Malfoy, unknowingly, helped him.

"I haven't heard from you in years, what have you been doing?" the Slytherin asked.

If he'd been an ordinary person _'haven't heard from you' _would have meant getting a letter, a call, a postcard or something like that.

But he was Harry Potter, and in his case '_haven't heard from you' _meant that Malfoy hadn't read anything about him in the papers lately.

"You really don't know?" he asked doubtfully. How could that be possible? When he'd become an Auror after training a year ago the papers had run wild (even if he really didn't understand why – it wasn't even unexpected!), and lately his complete lack of any woman (except Hermione, of course) in his life had made them wonder. And they _wondered_ loudly.

"No, you aren't that famous in Norway – some of the people here doesn't even know your name – and even if you were… this is really too high and too far away from everything for any owl to fly. I haven't read a paper in over a year. And the last one was in Swedish when I was over the border to check out some Swedish Shortsnouts…"

It took him a while to realize that Malfoy was talking about dragons.

He quickly wondered if Malfoy even spoke Swedish, but the thought left his mind, unspoken.

The blond sure was a lot more talkative now. It kind of confused him. Like everything else _didn't._

Malfoy suddenly touched _something _in his foot that he sure as hell didn't know existed. His cook twitched again.

"Well, I'm an Auror now. That's why I'm here… or, that's why I'm here instead of where I am supposed to be…"

Malfoy raised his eyebrows, obviously confused.

"Er… I _think _I know what you mean…" the Slytherin said, "But otherwise then, you and the Weaslette still a couple?" a hint of interest was to be heard in Malfoy's voice.

He couldn't help but laugh.

"That was literally _years _ago! Like seventh year or something! How long have you been here really, Malfoy?" he asked with a smile on his face.

When the Slytherin met his eyes the grin faded quickly.

"Six years", Malfoy said, the serious tone unmistakable. A chill went down his spine. It was common knowledge that, six years ago, Lucius had beaten his son so badly that the healers at St Mungos had thought he wouldn't make it. But he had, and then disappeared from the face of earth.

Hermione had been heartbroken for not treating him better, while Ron tried to convince her that it didn't matter, that it wouldn't have made a difference. He agreed with Ron, but hadn't been able to not feel the same pain as Hermione.

But at least she didn't have to bear the guilt of knowing that she could have prevented it – he did. In the war he had stood with his wand pointed at Lucius, but spared him with the man's family in mind. Now he knew it would have been better _killing _him with his family in mind.

"But you're avoiding the question," Malfoy finally said, stopping his thoughts. They had already managed to make him feel sick of guilt, so he welcomed the change of subject.

"Ha! I haven't dated a girl for so long that the papers think that I am gay!" he tried to make it a joke to ease the tension. It didn't work – Malfoy still looked dead-serious.

It was not until now he realized that the Slytherin had stopped touching his feet.

"Are you?" Malfoy asked, piercing grey eyes meeting green.

"W-what?" he shuttered.

"Are you gay?" the Slytherin clarified.

He let out a nervous laugh.

"Of course not!"

Malfoy rose so suddenly that he for a panicked moment wondered if he'd said something wrong.

But Malfoy just pointed at a small table with his wand and transformed it to a chair.

"Why 'of course'?" the Slytherin asked as he sat down. Finally a crooked smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

The relief made his heart beat easier.

Merlin knew that the man could make him nervous!

"Er… well… I don't know, I guess… it just came out. It's nothing wrong with being gay…"

Somehow that smile lifted his mood miraculously.

"Give me your hand," Malfoy said with his mind elsewhere. It was obviously not an answer to his statement.

He untangled his hand from the sheets and laid it in Malfoy's. When their hands touched a tingle went down his spine.

Once again he blushed.

"I'm gay." _That _was undoubtedly the answer.

Malfoy uttered the statement so simply that he almost thought that he'd heard it wrong, and what the Slytherin really had said was 'I'm blonde'. But no, the daring look in Malfoy's eyes was enough to confirm what he'd heard.

"Er… well, good for you, Malfoy…" he finally managed.

To his surprise Malfoy began to laugh.

His eyes went wide as saucers at the ringing sound. He had never heard Malfoy laugh before.

A small smile spread over his lips. He had made Draco Malfoy laugh, out of _happiness. _Not at all out of malicious glee.

"You're too cute, Potter," Malfoy said mockingly, still with his hand in his.

He blushed at the strange comment. But before he had come up with an answer, Malfoy began to massaging his _hand. _His fingers, his knuckles, his _palm._

Sweet mother of Merlin! That felt wonderful!

An embarrassingly audible moan escaped his lips. Malfoy chuckled as an answer. He would have blushed, he really would, but… well, his blood was at another destination for the moment.

"_Get a hold of yourself, Harry! He's only touching your hand, for God's sake!" _he said sharply to himself.

"_He. HE! Listen to yourself! _He _is a _man!"

He shook his head to get rid of the disturbing thoughts. This was _not _what he needed right now. What he needed was a thicker blanket – his _problem _was almost noticeable, even covered by the fluffy sheets.

"Why did you help me, Malfoy?" he asked, mostly to distract himself.

"Because I haven't spoken to another human in over six months." Malfoy answered simply. His all-too-perverted mind quickly concluded what that had to include.

"_Damn you, Ron Weasley, Damn you!"_

But Malfoy really hadn't slept with anyone in six months…? That was… strange.

"_You haven't had sex with anyone for that long either." _his ruthless mind reminded him.

"_Shut up."_

"And you'd die if I would've kicked you out in the snow again."

His slow mind needed a moment to realize what Malfoy was talking about.

"By the way, how are you feeling?"

He stared at Malfoy.

"Who are you, and what have you done to Draco Malfoy?" he asked, barely half-joking. This was becoming strange.

Once again Malfoy's laughter rang trough the house.

"Really now, Potter, are you feeling warmer? If you don't I need to take you to a hospital," Malfoy said with a smile, but the grey eyes was serious. The expression somewhat fitted him.

Now that the blond seemed so concerned he really made an effort to _feel _how he felt. Er… beside his erection of course.

"I'm warmer…" he said slowly, "and I can feel my hands and feet again. But I'm still a bit cold. Like in the middle of me, or something… it's hard to explain."

He blushed.

"Sounds good enough to me… we'll just have to wait a little to get inside you", Malfoy smiled wickedly.

"_Ron, why did you do this to me?" _he wondered miserably as a blush colored his cheeks.

But he didn't complain anymore when the Slytherin started massaging his hands again. It didn't even take a minute before he had a full-blown erection.

_Fuck _he was stupid. Malfoy didn't even do anything yet!

_Yet?! _Where the hell did _that _come from?!

"Is your hand any good now?" Malfoy asked.

"No." he said quickly. Too quickly.

The blond raised a thin eyebrow at him.

"I mean, it's like in the bone or something… it just won't go away…" he explained with a blush. It _was _true. But he also didn't want Malfoy to stop.

"Okay then."

Malfoy's tongue suddenly peeked out between the Slytherin's pink lips. Before he had managed to question why, Malfoy was licking his pinky.

His eyes went wide with both surprise and amazement. But he couldn't admire the act for long, because suddenly his finger was _inside _Malfoy's mouth.

A chocked gasp escaped his lips, but the Slytherin _sucked _on his pinky, and effectively turned it into a moan.

_Fuck._

This wasn't good. Not good at all. Oh, well, it was _too_ good, actually – that was why it wasn't good.

If his cock had been a bit hard before, it was positively _throbbing _now! All that could be seen of it was thankfully, due to the thick blankets, just a tiny tent – barely noticeable. But if Malfoy continued his ministrations – _oh, that felt nice – _he sure as hell was going to come within seconds.

"M-Malfoy, stop that… it feels strange…" he managed hoarsely. Not _quite _as firmly as he'd liked.

The blonde, however, obeyed his lame order, but sucked hard on his finger on its way out. Maybe to make sure not to leave any saliva on it. Though it wasn't that which was on _his _mind.

"But it is warm now, isn't it?" Malfoy said a bit teasingly, a crocked smile on his lips. "And call me Draco, by the way." the Slytherin added as an afterthought.

The name made him shudder, for some strange reason.

Draco's smile widened.

"Some place else where you're cold?" Malfoy asked, still grinning. The thought of Draco's mouth – _tongue – _on any other part of his body made him quiver.

"Yes," he managed finally, his eyes locked with the Slytherin's. Without any warning, Draco tore open his carefully folded cocoon of sheets. Before he could blink, the Slytherin had placed himself kneeling astride of him, closing the blankets behind himself.

In that position, Draco was a head taller than him. He looked up at the blonds lips. They looked ridiculously kissable.

"Where are you cold then…?" Malfoy asked, and the beautiful lips widened into a smile.

"Ehum…" was all he could say. Malfoy leaned forward.

"Your neck maybe?" the Slytherin suggested. The thought of Draco's lips on his neck made him gulp.

But he couldn't let this happen. He could just thank Merlin that he didn't cheat on anyone by doing this, then it'd have been really twisted. Like it wasn't already.

"D-Draco, you know what you're doing, right?" he asked breathlessly. For heaven's sake! Malfoy hadn't even started yet!

"What do you mean, Potter? I _have _done this before, you know…"

He blushed furiously.

"No, I didn't mean it like that! I just…" he didn't know how to finish the sentence.

"You just what?" Malfoy asked and leaned away from him, hands still with a firm grip on his shoulders. When the Slytherin bended backwards to be able to look in his eyes properly, Malfoy's hips automatically drove a bit forward – enough for them to touch Harry's bare chest. A strange bump caught his attention.

His gaze immediately lowered at the swift contact. His brain shut off itself abruptly at the sight. It just stopped working. Draco was _hard._

Forgetting all about Malfoy's question, his sexuality, who the moron actually was, _everything_, he raised his hand and cupped the bugle in Draco's jeans.

It felt strange, covered in the rough fabric, as if he really didn't touch him. If his brain had still been around, it probably (_hopefully_) would have stopped him from doing this, but it wasn't, so he quickly unbuttoned and unzipped Draco's trousers.

Unaware of that he stared, he carefully touched the erection through the white fabric of Draco's boxers with his fingertips. It felt warm, close.

A moan reminded him of that the cock actually was connected to a body too. A beautiful body, he realized as his eyes slowly traveled upwards. Somehow Draco's nipples looked really… _inviting, _so he leaned forward and took the left one in his mouth. Draco inhaled sharply and gripped his shoulders harder. He swiped his tongue gently over the soft skin before he released it, to allow his eyes to continue their travel upwards.

It had been his intention to say something to the Slytherin, but when he took in the sight of Draco's marvelous face, he was at loss of words.

Draco was lightly panting through parted, red lips, the cheeks where flushed, and the eyes… the eyes… suddenly Malfoy's cock wasn't as interesting as before.

The face was stunning, beautiful, gorgeous, lovely, glorious… he suddenly wished that he possessed Hermione's vocabulary – than he maybe could have figured out a word to describe Draco's features.

"For Merlin's sake, don't stop, Harry!" Malfoy groaned.

Hearing _Draco Malfoy _groaning his name did strange things to his body. An almost tickling feeling appeared somewhere behind his bellybutton.

"Okay…" he answered mindlessly and touched the Slytherin once again, this time wrapping his hand somewhat awkwardly around Draco's length.

Malfoy's moaned quietly. His eyes dropped from the blonde's face again.

Was it really necessary for Draco to wear all those clothes right now?

Draco's thoughts seemed to have wandered in the same direction, because the Slytherin suddenly drew his wand (the _magical _one, you perv! XD) and even got to mumble the beginning of the spell before stopping himself.

"Oh… mind if I undress a little?" Draco asked with a sheepish smile.

"Should I?" he asked. Oh, hell, maybe he should!? No, something that felt this right couldn't possibly be _that_ wrong.

"No, but you probably _should _let go of my dick, or else I won't be able to concentrate enough for the spell…"

He blushed crimson.

"Oh… sorry…" he said embarrassedly and quickly withdrew his hand.

Malfoy just chuckled, and made his clothes disappear.

A sudden rush of blood made him forget about ever being cold. Draco's naked erection lightly touched his.

Careful and nervous he slowly wrapped his hand around Draco's arousal. The skin felt soft and lean, even if it was hard underneath.

Draco's hands suddenly slided from his shoulders to the back of his neck.

"Harry…" the blonde whispered. He looked up. Draco's face was just inches from his.

"_Oh my god, he going to kiss me…" _he somehow managed to realize before their lips met. Screw Ginny, screw Hannah Abbot, and screw that brown-haired girl he couldn't even remember the name of right now. And to hell with Cho! He had never experienced anything like this. A kiss like this.

Draco's tongue drove over his lip and he automatically opened his mouth, for some strange reason. When Malfoy's tongue started exploring his mouth the reason suddenly wasn't so strange anymore.

The Slytherin abruptly removed his lovely mouth and leaned back a little.

"Fuck!" Draco exclaimed, much to his surprise.

"Shit! I'm sorry Potter, but…-"

He interrupted Draco quite effectively by pressing his lips against his.

What the hell was wrong with him!? He didn't use to be like this! Not with one girl he had been this… out of control… this not-thinking. Where was his brain anyway?

"'M sorry, what did you say?" he asked.

"Wait! You _want _this, Potter!?" Draco asked, disbelief high in his voice.

"First, stop calling me Potter, will you? It was kind of nice when you called me Harry. And secondly… you're being very un-Malfoy-like and it's pretty creepy actually…"

The attempt of teasing the blond failed miserably. _Didn't _Malfoy want this? He was the one who started it!

"I'm not being me because you're not being you."

A small smile lifted Draco's lips. A mocking smile.

He couldn't help but chuckle.

"And how am I not being me?"

"Well to start with you always have two of you. One newspaper hero that always is all serious and important, and then there is the real you who is shy, naïve and idiotic."

He gaped at Malfoy.

"I'm not shy!" he protested. Ah… maybe he should've started with the "idiotic" part instead…

"Sure you are, but that's not my-… do we really have to have this conversation right now?" Draco suddenly asked.

"You called me shy and naïve, why not!?"

"Because I'd really like you to fuck me, and that is pretty much all I can think about right now." Draco stated.

It was a miracle that his jaw didn't hurt Malfoy in some place important when it fell down.

Draco's words raced through his mind in hyper speed and woke everything there was to be awakened, and suddenly his brain returned.

He blushed furiously and quickly looked down. This naturally didn't help at all when Malfoy's cock was what met his eyes.

And his hand still was wrapped around the length.

_Shit._

But he couldn't bring himself to remove it. Instead he just blushed more.

"Told you you're shy and naïve."

The Slytherin just laughed when he glared at him.

He took his revenge by squeezing Draco erection. Even if the result didn't was the punishment he had in mind, he couldn't care less. Draco moaned.

Forgetting about why he was irritated at the blonde he did it again. This time Malfoy bent forward and kissed him. It took a while before he managed to both kiss Draco and keep his hand moving at the same time, but when he succeeded he was rewarded with yet another marvelous moan from the Slytherin.

He didn't know what made him do it, but suddenly his hand sneaked around Draco's hips and before he knew it, one of his fingers was _inside _of Malfoy. The Slytherin yelped. Panic took over his mind, and he tried to pull out again.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to, I just-…"

"Shut up, Potter, I was just surprised… nh… can you do that again…?"

He would've happily granted Draco's wish, if he only knew what he'd done. It took him some tries, and some movements on both of his hands, but suddenly Malfoy squeezed his arm. Either had it hurt, or he must have done something right. By the look on Draco's face, he'd say that he'd done something very right.

He did his best to repeat the motion, but failed when Draco leaned forward and pressed a light kiss on his lips. The gesture left him lightheaded.

"Another one… please…"

Somehow he managed to understand what Malfoy meant, and inserted another finger. The mere thought of having his cock inside of all that tightness almost made him come.

He'd never been good at reading peoples expressions, but he _did_ understand by the way Malfoy shifted slightly, that the blonde was in pain, even though he wanted to hide it.

"Does it always hurt?" he asked carefully and shyly met Draco's eyes. This was embarrassing. With the fog around his head cleared he couldn't even understand what had made him stick his finger up Malfoy's ass. Of course it hurt!

"No, it's actually quite nice once you get used to it… Promise I'll let you try sometime…" Malfoy grinned. He couldn't help but smile back. The thought wasn't nearly as repulsing as it should be.

Suddenly Malfoy lowered himself on his fingers and took them deeper in himself. Even though he thought that he'd come in any moment, he couldn't help but carefully move his fingers inside the heat.

Malfoy moaned quietly.

"Take them out, Potter, or I won't be able to hold myself back",

Harry thought that Malfoy managed to keep his voice completely steady was proof enough that he could keep going for a while longer, but he obliged a bit disappointed.

"Put it in", Draco said seductively. Confusion took over his mind.

"It? What do you-… oh…" he blushed furiously when he realized what Draco meant.

The blonde laughed softly.

"Like I said, naïve."

He probably would've spent more time on being embarrassed if Malfoy hadn't, right after his words, pushed himself down Harry's cock.

A surprised groan slipped past his lips at the intense feeing.

"_Shit, that must've hurt," _he thought panicked as soon as his brain kicked in again.

"You alright?" he managed to get out breathlessly. Malfoy gave a shaky nod.

"Just wait a few seconds and… I'll be fine", Draco promised with tightly shut eyes. Even if he knew it was from pain, he couldn't help but think that Malfoy looked beautiful.

"I-it's okay now…" Draco said finally.

Experimentally he thrust slowly into Draco again, in a somewhat awkward movement, considered that they both sat down. The blonde moaned quietly. The sound alone made his cheeks go warm, and he did it again.

"Will you just speed up already?" Draco practically begged. He smiled and obliged.

The Slytherin moaned quietly as Harry built up a more rapid pace, thrusting into the blond faster and faster. The awkwardness quickly ebbed away and was replaced by pure amazement. Just Malfoy's face, every one of the small features, looked stunningly beautiful.

Draco's hands slided up behind his ears and grabbed his hair, forcing his lips to meet the Slytherin's in a fierce kiss. Draco's body arched forward, hard into his. And then, suddenly, gravitation reminded them of its existence.

With a tingling sensation in his stomach – like when you're in a rollercoaster on its way down a huge hill – he realized that the armchair was tipping over.

He and Malfoy landed on the floor, rolling away from the nearly-crushing piece of furniture. The harsh landing probably would've hurt, but it also forced him deeper inside Malfoy. A scream of pleasure escaped Malfoys lips as he landed on the Slytherin.

"Oh sweet mother of Merlin… god… Harry…" Draco rambled mindlessly. Harry himself was all too deep in pleasure to do anything more than just breathe. He was all too deep in _Draco _to do anything but breathe. He didn't even manage to move, even if he desperately needed to.

"A-are you alright?" he asked with trembling voice. Malfoy didn't answer directly, but the blonde's thin arms snuck around his waist and held him close. The gesture made his heart strangely warm.

"Never better," Malfoy assured hotly in his ear. He swallowed harshly and pressed his fingers against Draco's hips.

"Good", he managed and then slowly pulled out of the former Slytherin, only to thrust back in again.

"I thought we had agreed that you should speed up…?" Draco said with a voice that made his whole body go strange.

He couldn't bring himself to answer, but picked up the pace anyway.

Soon they both were moaning loudly, not making it last longer for either of them.

He knew it sounded like a perverted cliché, but _Merlin, _Draco was tight! And the position on the floor was a hell of a lot better than the armchair.

"Nh… please… Harry…" Draco moaned.

"God, Draco, I'm going to come…" he warned, his mind fussy and his body dripping with sweat. This was by far the best thing that had ever happened to him.

"Ah… kind of the… oh lord… point, don't you think?" Malfoy pointed out with a breathless chuckle. Somehow it was so Malfoy-like that it almost brought tears to his eyes, for some completely strange reason.

His left hand snuck around Malfoy's neck while the other found his cock and began pumping it.

Malfoy moaned loudly. He could feel the man beginning to tighten around him.

He bent down and kissed Draco's neck.

"Merlin, I think I love you", he mumbled so quietly that he thought that the other man hadn't heard him. Whether that was the case or not, Draco came as soon as the words had left his lips. When Malfoy tightened around him, he couldn't hold himself back any more.

"Harry!" moaned Draco loudly as he came.

He came so hard that a silly part of him almost worried that he might hurt Draco in some weird way.

As the whiteness slowly disappeared from the inside of his eyelids he opened his eyes. Malfoy's grey orbs met his.

At first Draco looked at him somewhat fondly – or at least he thought so – but slowly the gaze changed. They stared awkwardly at each other for a so long time that he blushed and panic began to fill his chest.

Merlin, maybe Malfoy hadn't liked it at all? This was his first time with a man, maybe it had sucked?! Oh shit, what if Malfoy had heard what he said before? Maybe he thought he was completely weird?!

Or maybe Draco had lied to him all the time! Maybe he had been the one to fix his portkey to get him here so that he could sleep with him and then tell the press that they were right, that he was in fact gay! Oh no!

No wait, that was just insane.

He turned his eyes away as he carefully pulled out of Malfoy. A sigh of discomfort escaped the man's lips.

He decided to shove away the suspicions, and buried his face against Malfoys neck.

"… Harry…" Draco said suddenly.

"Yes," he said with a blush. This was not good; he blushed just from hearing Draco say his name!

"Did you say what I think you said before?" the Slytherin asked. He swallowed.

"When I said 'I love you'?" he asked slowly. Malfoy nodded.

"Exactly."

"No, I didn't say that," he said.

"Oh… I must have heard you wrong then…" Draco said, something somewhat like disappointment in his voice.

"Yeah, guess you did."

A silence spread itself like a blanket over them.

He mentally kicked himself in his head. What the hell was that?! Thank heavens that Malfoy seemed as dumb as he was right now. But he guessed that was what happened when you just had slept with someone, maybe you just wasn't able to think normally afterwards.

Slowly he rolled over so that he lay halfway on his back in Malfoy's warm embrace. He stared at the white roof.

Oh god.

He had fucked Draco Malfoy.

He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the uncomfortable truth, just wanting to feel the glorious afterglow.

It kind of worked – he almost fell asleep.

"Harry…?" Draco suddenly said slowly again.

"Mhmm?" he answered, a bit drowsy.

"Could you stay?"

The Slytherin sounded tense. He raised himself from the floor on his elbow to be able to look at Draco properly.

"What do you mean?" he asked, a bit confused.

"I mean… would you like to live here…? With me… for a while?"

Malfoy's grey eyes were serious, although a bit unsure.

Did Malfoy want him to live here? But did he even like him? And what about his work? About his friends? He didn't have anything with him, what about all his stuff? Wasn't this a bit… early?

Malfoy placed a timid kiss on his lips. It felt like fireworks exploded in his brain. To hell with _early_!

"Sorry I asked, it just-"

"Sure", he interrupted, a wide grin spreading over his lips, "Sure. As long as I don't need to go out again", he said teasingly.

Draco looked shocked for a second, but recovered remarkably quickly, and clasped his hands fondly behind his back.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll make sure you don't even need to go out of bed," Draco said with a smug smile.

At first he raised his eyebrow, surprised, but then a smile spread over his lips.

Fuck work. Fuck _everything_.

Especially Malfoy, he himself was going to make sure the Slytherin was fucked very much. And by nobody else than himself.

"We have a deal then," he said and grinned, already plotting evil plans of what to do with Draco in bed…

-Fin-

Merry Christmas everyone!


End file.
